Seventeen times the Bad Wolf Interfered
by Mygayshoes
Summary: ...and one time she didn't. Multiple crossovers.
1. Star Trek: The Next Generation

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the fictional worlds shown in these fanfics.**

_Summary:__Seventeen Times the Bad Wolf interfered._

_A/N: Since I cannot access my previous account, this has been reposted to allow updates to occur in the future._

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She looked around the small cell, examining everything, from the panels on the walls, to the dull walls, before nudging the creature asleep on the small bed with her knee.

He, and even then she used the term 'he' very hesitantly, but she supposed he was a he now, even if he had been a Q.

The creature, Q, rolled and mumbled, before sitting up in alarm, and staring at her, then at the forcefields still in place, and the security guard standing motionless at his post.

"What...What happened?" the creature had wide eyes and was looking at himself strangely, mumbling about diseases and such.

"You fell asleep"

Q looked up at her, and almost laughed, she could see the corners of his mouth twitching. He rubbed his eyes and stood, the effort of standing obviously taking a toll on him.

"Ah, it was horrible, I felt like I was slipping away...unconsciousness.." Q looked at her strangely, noting her clothes "And who are you? Civilians? But your clothes...humans don't dress in purple _blouses_ anymore...do they? Or are you just visiting...wanting to see a Q in a cage?"

She smiles, and looks down at the omnipotent creature, she was omnipotent, he wasn't, he had never been.

"Who ever said I was human?"

Suddenly the Q straightens up and makes a curious sound, his eyebrows furrowing, his brain flicking through all the creatures he had ever seen, of all the creatures that existed, trying to match a face to a name.

He never would.

"Who are you then?"

Q looked outside the holding cell, then stared at his grey clothing in distaste, the security officer was pressing buttons on his consol, completely unaware of the intruder.

"Should I call the guards? Or are you here to settle a score, have I destroyed your species? Coming here before any one else, because now I'm weak, stuck in this feeble human body?"

The blonde woman who wore a purple blouse smiled, her eyes were gold, Q looked away, gold eyes meant power, and he wasn't that stupid as to get mesmerized by such a creature.

"Call me Rose. You could have been anything, Dalek, Sontaran, Hath- even the abominable snowman himself! Why _human_?"

Q mused on this, he sat on the bed, if the thing he was on could be called a bed at all, and hugged his knee in thought.

"Sontaran, dalek, now there's some words I haven't heard in a long time," He rocks back on his feet with an annoyingly child-like smile, "Tell me, how do you know of them?"

The blonde girl held her hands behind her back and walked back and forth the cell, looking like she knew everything, more so than he.

"But human, why human? They have short lives, why not, become one of the crystalline beings of Midnight, or.." she paused and took on a sad smile, reminiscing in her words "A Time Lord, you could have been a child of Gallifrey."

She turned to the former Q and looked at him sharply, demanding the answer "Why human?"

"Why not?"

Q looked at her, moving his free foot around in circles, curious at the female who had awoken him, and stirred curiosity in him, he didn't know who she was, or what she was, perhaps her species was a blind spot, or were they just freeloaders of the universe, unimportant.

"But there must have been a single seed of reason"

Q furrowed his brow, she was persistent, strange, for not many people would push further, she was just as curious as himself.

"What about you then? What are you? Why are you?"

The blonde ignored his voice and continued in her speech, "There must have been a single reason or even a subconscious thought behind your answer, for an answer always has a truth."

She stopped then turned to the Q, her eyes wider and her mouth forming a perfect 'O'.

"Ooooh, oooh, You like humans" Q snorted at her but she continued "Because of all their flaws, they could be as powerful as you, because you admire them"

Q froze, and stared at the intruder in amazement, mentally he checked his shields, they were perfect, not leaking, no cracks, how had she known?

"Homo sapiens, they've only just crawled out of the mud and started walking, surviving famine, war and plague, you admire them, because they've accomplished much, and they will survive. I'm right aren't I?"

Q shut his mouth and leaned back, his eyebrows still furrowed.

"I've underestimated you, Now, will you answer my questions? What are you?"

The blonde smiled, and looked out the cell, where the captain of the ship Q was currently stranded on was walking with a few of his officers.

"Q, you know me, my name is written in every star, spread across Time and Space, through everything, the only constant."

The captain drew closer and stood outside the cell, fury on his face, but it was clear he couldn't see the woman.

"You see Q, don't you?, I am not a who or what, I am me"

The captain lowered the shield.

"I am _Bad Wolf_"

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	2. Stargate: Atlantis

**Disclaimer: As per previous chapter.**

**A/N: I am aware of how strange this may be to read; it is rather old, and thus not as polished as my more recent pieces.**

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It was a sunny day on Atlantis, the kind of day that would have been perfect; only a slight wind, warm sunshine, gentle waves and the cafeteria serving fresh breakfast from a new stock that had arrived from the Daedalus only a few hours ago.

The scientists had discovered several new devices that were considered a scientific breakthrough, there was no one in the infirmary- always a good sign, and there was friendly chatter everywhere.

Unfortunately, today was also the day that SGA-1 had gone through the 'gate and hadn't returned.

After three teams had been prepped and gone through the gate, reporting that Major Sheppard's team was gone, even the villagers didn't know anything; they had locked themselves in their crude houses and had been terrified they were wraith.

So, the lazy Sunny day on Atlantis that everyone had been wishing for, for so long had turned into that hectic Sunny Day on Atlantis that everyone experienced most days, that involved annoyed military personal checking for their leaders, scientist to use their equipment, which were basically useless, and it involved a rather annoyed doctor to pack all of his supplies and wait in the gate room as the first of his expected injured colleagues poured in.

What they didn't expect, was the gate to open, Major Sheppard's IDC to come through, then a rather large blue box to appear on their doorstep.

Within seconds many large guns were pointed at the big blue box. While it looked like a rather new Police Box, living in Pegasus implied that _anything_ was possible.

What they did not expect was a blonde girl to stick her head out of the blue box in question, showing that the inside was much bigger than the outside.

And they didn't expect her to smile and announce "Excuse me, have you, by any chance, lost some people, one is so high" she held her hand about John's height, "and another guy that is really bossy, a woman is had reddish-brown hair, and captain dreadlock?"

There was a pause, before Elizabeth Weir appeared started walking quickly down the stairs, her face worried and suspicious.

"What have you done with Major Sheppard?"

The blonde girl shrugged and held open the door wider; within seconds the team in question came stumbling out like fish. They stumbled around the box, every part the image of a person whose life no longer makes sense.

"That's not possible..."

"Where's Doctor McKay?"

Sighing, the blonde Woman pushed the door open further, showing an ecstatic Rodney McKay poking around the consol.

"Can you please calm your pet scientist down? The Doctor may not be happy if you suddenly know more about TARDIS Technology"

Elizabeth cleared her throat, "TARDIS technology? Are they your people, the TARDIS?"

Trying to stall for more time, in such a manner may have worked on others, but their obvious attempt to give him more time to study was nothing more than half hearted at best.

The blonde woman snorted and looked up with warm brown eyes and a curious face "Nah, I'm Human, the TARDIS is this old blue box, and it's not mine, it's the Doctor's"

There was a thud from inside the TARDIS, the woman disappeared, and returned with an annoyed scientist.

"Perhaps we could discuss a trade of technology, of knowledge of your and the 'doctors' people" Elizabeth drew the diplomatic way, the inside of the blue box was big, and most of the controls looked like they had been rerouted many times.

"No. See, the doctor and his people are all gone, there was a war," Rose started, before sighing, "Anyway, you don't really need the help you'll defeat the wraith soon enough."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Elizabeth smiled; a diplomatic smile that extended the well wishes she had been trained to deliver, "However, you spoke of a war? My condolences for your loss."

Laughing the blonde woman shook her head, surprising those around her, "He was an echo and besides, you see, this box is a TARDIS, as in, 'Time _And Relative dimensions in Space'_ it's a Time machine. I've sort of been, touring I guess. You'll deal with the wraith."

The blonde woman smiled and went to close the door "I'm finished playing intergalactic Taxi driver, I won't be back, sorry Dr McKay."

"Wait, I didn't catch your name!"

She smiled, though her eyes looked darker this time, and she chose her words carefully.

"I am, I am _Bad Wolf_"

Everyone on Atlantis shivered.

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	3. Andromeda

**Disclaimer: As per previous chapters.**

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The alien-girl had noticed her first, and had come over and smiled broadly and held out her hand as if she knew what she was.

That was strange in itself, Rose was not used to having important beings introduce themselves to her, it was always the other way round, Rose would talk and ask questions the answer to which she already knew, and Rose would then leave, giving them a cliff-hanger that would last them all their lives, and sometimes all of eternity.

But the alien-girl had come over in the middle of the very crowded space-station-mall, and introduced herself in a manner that made Rose question if she knew just as much as her.

It didn't help that Bad Wolf was laying dormant, waiting to come out as usual.

"I'm Trance."

The small purple alien girl with the long scaled tail and the warm brown eyes spoke in a bubbly voice, somehow she reminded Rose of popstars from back on Earth, the days when she would watch the singers in their small clothes singing cheerful songs around 6 in the morning.

Still, Rose shook her hand and smiled back just as cheerfully, speaking in her still-there London accent.

"I'm Rose, Rose Tyler."

Trance paused "If you are Rose Tyler, then that makes me Trance, Trance Gemini!"

Rose smiled with amusement, this was the type of person the doctor needed to come with him on his journeys, somehow she had the strange urge to see what would happen if she gave a banana to the purple girl.

Though, Trance couldn't possibly be more happier than she was now; such a strange naturally happy person.

"So, what are you doing here?"

The purple girl tried to make the question sound normal, but Rose could hear the curiosity seeping out of her words, and the twinkle in her eye of mischef.

"Just shopping, taking a look around, looking for certain things."

Just as Trance tried to mask her words, Rose also masked her words, while she told the truth she wanted her tone to sound as if the items were not that important, it wouldn't do to tell her what she needed, or _why_ she needed them at all.

Trance however, was a creature of intelligence and grace.

"Can I help?" Trance was bouncing again, she had awe on her face like a child meeting their favourite celebrity, which only made Rose more curious as to what she was.

"Well, sure, I'm looking for a piece of.." Rose paused, "…Coral, a blue-purple piece of coral with a bumpy surface and a smooth botton, like a bendy cone shape."

Trance cocked her head to the side and made a humming noise, which Rose took for thinking, suddently Trance frowned and spoke again "Uh, ha, you're looking for a piece of Tardis?" she spoke quietly, then looked close to tears, "There was a Time War."

Rose nodded and patted the purple girl on the shoulder, in sympathy. Any being that knew of the Time War had to be advanced, and many advanced beings were benevolent at heart. The purple skinned being's knowledge only made her more curious about Trance Gemini.

"A Time War…so much pain…_gone_…it hurt so much…." Rose noticed a blonde woman and a Nietzschean, with long black hair, which from this distance looked braided. they both noticed Trance at the same time as she; colour draining from her features, and her bubbliness having been sucked away. It was as if the girl's light, had suddenly disappeared...

The purple girl sobbed "It was pulled apart, no more..._we felt it_, every second..."

"Trance?" The blonde woman shook the Purple girl's arm in concern, as soon as she was near. A sudden glare was directed Rose; her lips poised to ask a question.

Trance looked up "All gone...No more Gallifrey,..._it burnt...it died...and there's no more_...no more keepers of the peace."

Rose shook her head defiantly "There is, there is the Doctor, he saves worlds, defends the law of Gallifrey and does a _hell_ lot of running, and he had a daughter...Jenny...the Generated Anomaly."

Trance exhaled, "There's one in E-Space, on her twelfth regeneration, on her twelfth life, I can sense her, she's so alone, and the emptiness, _no more talk,_ no more noise in here" she pointed to her head, then looked at the ground, "But, there will be no more, all dead, the Lords of Time are gone, no more Order only Chaos"

Rose rubbed her temples "Do you miss the talk? I can bring it back."

Only a small giggle was her answer, then she stood straight and shook her head "You can do anything, but not the noise, never the noise, it would bring only confusion."

She understood that, she could bring back the noise, but never the souls, only very clever impersonations, she would have to bring back Gallifrey, and she knew that she couldn't do that untill the Doctor had finished his task.

"Besides, the Time Line couldn't handle that," Trance reached into her pocket and pulled out the same piece of Tardis she had been searching for "Here, take it, and go, leave.." Trance looked at Rose and laughed "Just go, I expect you are in my debt?"

Rose smiled, and nodded, the Bad Wolf was awakening, "One chance, use it wisly Trance Gemini."

"I intend to. One day I'll need help to fend off the Chaos once more," The Avatar, nodded, "Thank you Bad Wolf, may you have mercy on her soul."

Rose smiled, and was well aware her eyes were going golden, the Bad Wolf was waking.

" I am Bad Wolf, we are one."

The Purple Avatar nodded, and she walked away.

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	4. Firefly

**Disclaimer: As per previous chapters.**

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The blonde passenger currently sitting in a corner of the cargo bay writing in a very fancy blue notebook didn't look like their usual passengers who usually were dangerous or criminals; although most checked both demographs.

She was simply a small blonde girl with large brown eyes who had brought her own food on board and spent most her time writing in the blue notebook that she was currenly staring at, and writing slowly. Her eyebrows always knitted in concentration as if the notebook was extremelly important.

The girl was strange though, she went by Rose Tyler, though you couldn't be sure that was her real name. But she was liked well enough by four members of the crew at least.

Inara had stared at her pretty blonde hair and they had discussed hours of history about _earth that was;_ the girl had known more about earth that was then anyone they had ever met, promising to show them proper English chips soon.

Kaylee also seemed to like her, they had spent hours down in the engine room, Rose suggesting things to inprove their speed, and had saved them a fortune with her advice, making her wonder who she really was.

A young girl shouldn't know everything, and that's exactly was she was, a person who knew everything.

The most strange person who really liked the girl was Jayne, not sure why, and perhaps the word _liked_ was a little strong, they both carried a sort of mutual respect for each other. Rose laughed at his love of grenades and gave him a a page torn from her note book, that had a list of chemicals needed for 'super grenades' callled Nitro-something, Janye as suspicious of why she was handing that information out, when she could have made a large fortune in selling, and respected her keen, sharp eye.

The doc seemed to like her, even though she'd only said hi once, and gave him a small bag of medical supplies and said she wouldn't be needing anymore, but that was suspicious on it own, who actually gives out free stuff?

Then there was River.

River had a dislike to Rose, going out of her way to avoid her, and even insulting Rose right out. What was wrong with the _girl this time_?

"Gorram it, Simon!" Malcom Reynolds snapped at the doctor, who was already speaking to River in a hushed voice; the girl had almost stabbed Rose with a knife, though the blonde didn't look particually worried.

"Stop your _shiong-mung duh kwong-run_, sister…"

Rose smiled and shook her head interupting his rant.

"I really don't mind, she's young, she's smart, she's probably wondering why she can enter my mind. She doesn't expect it. I'm right aren't I?"

River nodded numbly and cocked her head, her expression never changing, Sitting when Rose smiled and patted beside her.

"So, why are you visiting me in my humble cargo bay?"

She looked up at Simon who was still standing, and eying River in suspicion, Malcom suddentely felt those little hairs on the back on his neck stand on end.

"A wolf." River nodded, "A wolf with teeth. A Bad Wolf goin' around and not knowin' whats good for her, pulling at the Time like a stack of sticks and hopin' they won't fall. But you shouldn't, isn't normal, isn't wise. All actin' like a god."

The blonde woman laughed and closed the notebook open in her lap, putting it under her leg, as if to protect it.

"And what does that make you?"

The brunnette giggled, like a joke had been told.

"Makes me River." She stared at Rose Tyler and frowned, then spoke more slowly then usual "Can't replace a Rose with a River, even if the River is a Song. What does that make you?"

Rose smiled one of her wide white toothy smiles, and looked possitivelly cheerful, as if she had been waiting for that question to be asked.

"That makes me a Rose. That makes me a _Wolf_."

River frowned and then nodded, giving the stranger one of those small smiles that she usuallly reserved for occasions when most people would have a smile the size of the universe.

"I think the Bad Wolf is lookin', lookin' for her god, I won't keep you."

River nodded with acknowledgement and nodded, then she smiled at her her captain.

"She's okay."

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	5. Buffy the Vampire Slayer

**Disclaimer: As per previous chapters.**

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She hadn't actually come here to find her. She had come to the small, tiny, death-wish town called Sunny dale to check out the latest 'slayer' and she if this one was going to go crazy and kill everyone in sight, or if this one was stable enough for the job.

She had known about Buffy, the blonde who protected the town, or at least tried to, against evil demons and vampires on a regular basis, she had already decided that she would visit Angel in his L.A place after this, after all, anyone would prefer a human to a vampire. Even if this one had some sort of super powers.

So for the record, it must be noted, she had found out about Buffy, Xander, Willow, Spike, everyone that had been within Buffy's memory, and some not, and even though she had scaled the time line like a spider up a wall she had found no trace of Dawn Summers.

She was all wrong.

Pushing open the door that lead into the tiny magic shop that Buffy and her watcher usually were, Rose allowed herself to marvel at the strange objects around her; proper crystal balls, herbs, ingredients, magical items, and even tarot cards- the last one was a favourite of hers, it was very funny to influence the outcome of cards.

Looking around the shop, she stared and thought for a moment, looking at the daggers in one of the display cases, and frowned at one of them- a green one which had a rather unpleasant history. Then decided looked at the crystal wands and pendulums, a pink rose pendulum caught her attention and within five minutes it was hanging around her neck looking quite shiny and beautiful.

A perfect pointed cylinder with the beautiful rose carved into it, it must have taken ages to carve away the stone of which it was made, and she had refused to let herself see who had made it, it would take away the mystery and allure.

The girl behind the counter, well, demon behind the counter, she had been to many times, and knew that Anya was in fact Anyanka and she knew not to mess around with vengeance demons.

So she half listened and looked at the shelves and inspected the merchandise, Skink Root, Essence of Rose Thorn, Holy water there was so much in the shop, it was much more wellly stocked than someone would imagine, and the whole place stunk of magic and paranormal.

Rose smiled and tried to converse with the nice vengeance demon, listening in to her babbling about all the things in the store- and their price, it wasn't until several minutes later when Anya paused and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"So, what's your name? I haven't seen you around."

It was innocent enough, and even though her brain told her that perhaps giving a demon your name was like giving a vampire your front door key, she smiled with her large white teeth and responded all the same.

"I'm Rose Tyler. I've just come visiting from England."

Anya paused and seemed to look over her shoulder at another man, who was most definetly Xander and started chattering to him, while she did have a very bubbly voice, Rose couldn't stand to be around her- she smelled like blood, anger and revenge.

Her eyes trailed over the thick history books on one of the tables, and flicked through it, looking in disgust at one such page, wondering how someone could get a historical event so very wrong, they attacked first, they did this, they did that, they, they, they. It never gave a fair record, and if someone had asked the other guys, the losers, the ones who failed what had happened, they would give a totally different story.

And then she would tell the truth.

The bells above the door jingled and in came some, what looked to be, collage students who went straight for the dream catchers, incense sticks, Tarot cards, a raven haired girl taunted her friends with 'Eye of newt.'

Bogus. Phoney. They wouldn't know what 'Eye of newt' was even if it attached itself firmly to their backside and ask for tea.

However, while this had the effect of Xander to go and ask if they needed anything, it gave her time to separate the smells round this place, vampire, demon, human, slayer and another scent which smelled so strongly of herself.

That however, was impossible.

Looking up sharply, she reached into her handbag and pulled out her mobile phone, sending a quick text message to her mother, saying she'd be home soon, and that she was only going to be a few minutes.

Or not.

However, she could see that her mother had sent her a text message saying something about crossing universes was bad.

Then she paused as a man, who had the posture and look in his eye that boldly screamed 'Watcher', and had a British accent so thick it reminded her of librarians, who always seemed to have such thick accents.

"May I help you?"

Rose smiled and closed the large book without hesitation, standing then speaking quietly for him to hear, but so that the collage students wouldn't hear.

"Why does this place reek of demon and vampire?"

It had been a very legal mate question, however strange it may have sounded, but her speaking had the most unfortunate timing, as the students left as she finished.

The rest from there was a little extraordinary, Anya's head snapped up, Xander paled and his eye brows shot up, and a beautiful blonde's head suddently appeared, the expression on her face showed she had heard every word.

"I don't understand." The watcher replied, a bit too quickly, and Rose sighed heavily.

"Why does this place smell like, vampire, demon, Slayer and...A witch is here?" that confused her, there was honesty that many magical being types in one small building?

"The question is why do you know about Vampires, demons and Slayers." The sentence was not really a question, more of a demand, but Rose just replied as if she had a choice just the same.

"Been there, done that, got the t-shirt."

An answer that didn't really answer their questions, but gave them one, how clever of her, the annoyed expressions were just so amusing.

"So can I have an answer?" She asked politely, noting that they still looked like they'd swallowed a lemon flavoured lolly, they kept that expression then went into defence.

"Who are you? What are you!"

Rose raised an eyebrow and frowned, these people were honestly scared of her? This wasn't new, but every time someone showed genuine fear of her, it made her wonder. Why?

"I'm Rose Tyler. I dunno, I was human. Once."

Rose almost slapped herself, how was she suppose to say it? 'hi I'm Rose Tyler, also known as bad wolf, I'm basically time embodied into a human girl and well, that kinda makes me all powerful and all-seeing.' Yea, that would have gone down a blast, next she'd be telling them about her adventures on the Tardis, and that only fifty-six fairies could dance on a pins head- fairies were quite lazy.

She could see Buffy's eyes narrow and now resembled a death glare, she could see Anya, Willow and Xander, almost casually walk into the path to the door in case she tried to run.

Heh.

"So what are you now?" A different voice asked, and she couldn't care less who it was, all she cared about was thinking how had she ruined her plan of how to stroll into the headquarters of a protective slayer.

"I dunno." The honesty in her eyes must have shown, because Buffy looked slightly less-on edge, now it was only 99% death glare and 1% curiosity, which helped her so very much.

"I don't know what I am, just that I needed to be here, Gotta check if the slayer's gonna go insane. You look sort of stable."

There was a laugh, then silence again, Giles cleared his throat and motioned towards the table.

"Perhaps if we sat down and discussed this.." he attempted, then trailed off as Rose shook her head with a sad smile. She sighed and looked at Buffy, so young, her life line had barely began, and it wouldn't last very long.

Whatever angle you looked at it. She was a murderer, and murderers were her least favourite people. Even if this one had a special place.

"No, you see, I'm the only one of my kind I know I am, because only one of me exists." Rose spoke with such conviction, that made the people now effetely holding her captive look at her differently.

"How do you know?"

Rose snapped her head around quickly and looked at the brunette girl sitting on the small step just a few metres away and stepped backwards, the girl didn't have a life line by all rational trails of thought, the girl shouldn't exist.

She was unexistent.

"Who are you!" Rose tried to keep the hysteria from her voice and only partially succeeding, in one quick motion, Dawn was hidden behind Buffy, who was looking fiercely proactive.

"I'm Dawn."

Rose tried to focus herself, but it was no use, she felt fuzzy, and blurry around the girl, like when she had gotten tipsy at a party when she had been 16.

"What are you!"

The girl suddenly looked worried and mumbled something about Glory to her older sister with surprising speed, Rose had to strain to hear the exchange though.

"I'm not working for Glory." Rose said, looking amused, really, why would she work with such a delusional 'god'. That was like a cat saying one day, 'hey mouse, we've been fighting too long. Lets be friends' while eating the mouses best friend.

"I think you probably don't believe me, but I had to say. What is she?, I feel...strange...all fuzzy."

Rose paused for a moment then decided perhaps she should look again, and she did, but there was no Dawn Summers in her time Line, which meant she was not an original plan.

Suddenly overcome with curiosity she stopped and looked at Dawn again, she was truly someone special if even she didn't know about her? Or had she censored the life of this brunette girl from herself? A surprise?

This was perhaps the most bizarre thing she had ever come across, a mystery that didn't exist, and a strange creature that was so incredibly important.

She had to be.

"Fuzzy?" Dawn asked almost attentively, and Rose saw an exchange of looks between the two siblings, the silent argument "What do you mean?"

Rose nodded and smiled again, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and speaking in a calm voice she had perfected long ago.

"Yea, Sort of Blurry, and my vision is all wrong. I can't see very well, and according to the time Line, You don't exist at all."

Dawn froze and looked with such a strange expression that it seemed to be a mess of a mix of emotions.

"I'm the key."

Rose froze, and she could see the looked of utter horror as she had froze, then everything seemed to fall into place, Glory. The fuzziness. All so differently.

Now with a light heart, and the smile on her face she hadn't won since her hand had been in the doctors, she pulled off the beautiful rose around her neck and offered it to Buffy, she wouldn't be trusted.

"Dawn, Key." She mused, then cocked her head to the side. "I couldn't even see you, you must be someone very important."

At those word she started to turn slightly pink.

"I'm Rose, Bad Wolf."

She could see the spark being lit in the Watchers head, he actually recognised her, he knew what she was.

"I owe you a debt. If you need help. Well.." she stared at the rose pendulum in the Slayers hand "One day, you'll know what to do.."

This was it.

_The beginning._

But of what, maybe she'd never know.

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	6. Eureka

_Disclaimer: As per previous chapters_

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The girl was sitting down at a seat in a cafe, sipping a bottle of water, and looking slightly upset. In front of her was an open pad of paper with lots of scientific equations scribbled all over it, and hastily drawn scratches written in the top left hand corner. And beside her was a plate of half eaten spaghetti.

She chewed on the end of her pencil and groaned, looking as if she would like nothing more than to rip the paper into tiny pieces, and throw them into the nearest black hole, and then throw the pencil in for good measure.

She looked so much like herself, with her blonde hair and brown eyes, and the same attitude she had had when she herself had been the girls own age.

But this girl looked much smarter than her jeans and t-shirt attire announced.

She sat down at a table close to the girl and then ordered a batch of chips with vinegar and salt, and a bottle of coke for good measure, and then relaxed into her seat before digging out her own work to do.

She loved this town, this little place called _Café Diem_.

And most of all she loved Eureka.

In Eureka, it didn't matter if you had little impossibilities popping up, such at the designs for her new improved sonic screwdriver on her pad of purple paper, which was her own little inside joke.

And it didn't matter if you had alien Tec' here, coz you could always say it was a new invention of yours.

It might had been her fault; actually it had been her _entire fault_, but she had wanted to speak to Zoe Carter, because the young lady would be a very important person in the future.

Did the words_ 'First official alien contact.'_ Have any meaning here? In future kiddie textbooks, Zoe Carter would go down as the person who was the first person to speak an alien language and negotionate with them

Even if the aliens were like giant sheep with black and yellow striped horns.

She had needed a reason to speak with her, and somehow, sliding into the seat next to her and talking about possibility strands didn't seem like a good way to start of a conversation.

So she pulled out the (untested) new and improved sonic screwdriver, and as Zoe picked up her plate to slid on the counter, she flicked the sonic screwdriver on and tripped her, sending spaghetti flying through the air and landing onto her nice and comfy purple blouse.

Such a shame.

Zoe gasped and heaps of people in a eight table radius, looked at her with a strange unreadable expression.

"I am so, so sorry..." Zoe started, looking shocked.

Rose lifted the sonic screwdriver, pointed it to herself, and hit the frequency needed to removed the spaghetti and sauce from her shirt, it dropped to the floor, but her blouse wasn't even messy now.

"'S, ok." She cheerfully responded, Zoe started at the device almost wistfully.

"Whats that? A food remover?"

"A sonic screwdriver." Rose grinned, before looking around and pointing to the light, "watch this."

She pointed it at the ceiling and made the light flicker, turn off, and then come back on, then shrugged in a non-committal way, noticing there was now the entire café looking at the device like they were starving and the device was food.

"It can reverse transportation, turn off lights, break into locks, mess with electronics, open doors, really hurt someone's ears, cook with it, and do all kinds of thousands of things with it."

She boasted, her sonic screwdriver was the best. Ever and she wasn't ashamed to admit it, but she might have been a little stupid to mention it in a room full of super smart genius scientists.

"Woh. Reverse transportation?" Zoe raised her eyebrow, she had caught onto that, damn, stupid Rose. "Yea, but don't ask. It's classified."

Zoe snorted in disbelief, and moved her hand around the room, "In case you hadn't noticed, this entire place is classified, nothing is more secret than Eureka."

Rose grinned on of her special, your-so-stupid-stupid-apes looked that she usually wore when around people who didn't believe her, or the aliens who were convinced of their own superiority that they though _her_ stupid.

"Ever heard of Torchwood?"

That got her attention, she frowned and shook her head, looking much to interested for her own good, in fact now everyone looked interested, and she knew it must be killing them not to fire questions at her.

"Secret. Our classified makes your classified look like the secret of a kid stealing a cookie."

Zoe looked slightly annoyed, and Rose chuckled to herself, they were fighting over what was the most classified, but the girl looked like she was going to get defensive, and then that would be bad news.

"But I'm not here to debate which is more classified. I'm here to find a Zoe Carter."

Zoe sat up straighter, and narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"That's me. Why?" she paused for a moment, then thought of something. "And who are you?"

The blonde woman sighed and held out her hand "I'm Rose Tyler, Director and Head of Torchwood, I've come to offer you a job."

"I'm 15!" Zoe replied almost awed, and then grumbled again "Besides, I've only been in Eureka a month! Dad would never let me."

Rose smiled then looked around, everyone was still looking at her, like they expected her to pull out a gun and start randomly shooting people, gee, like she would do that.

"I've checked your entire profile out, you are intelligent enough, have a pretty open mind, and have the street smarts. You are physically fit enough and would be extremely welcome at Torchwood. If you are worried about your age, we have people at Torchwood from the age of 10 to well over 100."

Zoe crossed her arms, she was getting defensive now, she honesty thought this was a joke, a huge practical joke created for her own suffering.

Had her life really been that bad?

"What would this job involve?" she spoke almost coldly, then brightened as a man walked into the café, spotting her almost immediately.

"Dad, over here now!" he noticed her and quickly walked over and slid into a spare seat, looking questionably between her and his daughter.

"This is my dad Sheriff Jack Carter."

The man was tall enough, and had sort an expression that said, anything she said would be taken as a 'yea. Okay.' Like nothing would surprise him.

Hell she could still _try_.

His hair was slightly brown-blonde and he had the tannish skin of someone who spent a lot of time outside. And he was very fit.

Probably from running away from all those explosion and doomsdays that happened in Eureka on a usual, daily basis.

"She offered me a job." Zoe said to her father in a disbelieving voice, like she didn't truly care. But her eyes said she was itching to find out more.

"Wait. What? She's 15."

Why did she bother sometimes? Honestly? She would have better luck trying to convince people she was actually Santa.

"Torchwood is a very secure facility that has been in operation for over one hundred years with few casualties." That wasn't completely true, but it wasn't lying, in a sense either.

They looked at each other, the Sheriff, give the impression of being someone who didn't care about that, but there was no way she was going to come and work for torchwood, eh. Ever.

"What's Torchwood." He replied, then gave her a dark look, "Not a history. The whole basic point of it."

She bristled at those words, even if she had been expecting it, she paused as a waiter, or the owner, whatever, came and placed down a plate full of burning hot chips dripping with vinegar and salt, both carters scrunched their noses up at it, but she picked up one and shoved the whole thing in her mouth, enjoying the taste before continuing.

"I'm not sure what I can say about it, other than." She looked at they both straight in the eyes, which was a problem, she looked at Jack first then at Zoe.

"Do you believe in Aliens?"

There was quiet in the café.

"Aliens? You mean little green aliens in flying saucers?" scoffed Jack, but Zoe thought for a moment then rolled her eyes.

"Dad, Aliens are not the little green men from Mars."

"Martians are reptilian humanoids actually." She mumbled under her breath, noticing only Jack seemed to catch that; he looked at her suspiciously.

"Aliens? Seriously?" she deadpanned "Looking at planets and aliens in photos and looking through telescopes?"

Rose smiled, and then traced a Gallifreyan symbol on the table, which meant both future, time and past, all jumbled up together.

"No, like sorting through bucket loads of alien tech, finding things and people who fall through the rift in time and space, sorting out invasions and dealing with hungry weevils."

She responded so cheerfully, they probably thought she was insane.

"Just to know, there are things in this Universe, and in E-space which are so much like humans, but aren't at the same time. Look at me. Don't matter what you see."

She frowned, and noticed they didn't believe her, she sighed and let her shoulders sag, before handing a Torchwood card to the blonde girl who was still narrowing her eyes.

"When you want to take me up on my offer, tomorrow or tens years from now. Call them ,and ask for Jack Harkness and tell him Rose sent you."

She handed him the card which wasn't hers to give and walked towards the door, sorrowly leaving her proper chips behind.

"And if he doesn't believe you. Tell him. Tell him _Bad Wolf_ is back. And that she 's sorry." The jingling of the door and the slam as it shut was all she could hear for a moment.

The card burned a hole in her hand, and somehow Zoe knew that that woman, if she was a human at all, knew she was going to keep this card.

She tucked it into her purse.

The equations on her notebook were finished.

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	7. Highlander

**Disclaimer: As per previous chapters.**

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The man was sitting on a park bench, in the middle of a busy suburban park. Little children in their bright vibrant clothing hurried on by, most clutching ice-cream cones and toys; skateboards and skipping ropes as well as the latest technology in ipods and game boys. Even the adults were laughing, cheerful, younge couples bashfully held hands and giggled. The sun was warm and vibrant and seemed to glow on all the living creatures, plant and animal.

The only exception was a single man. It looked like the sun made a point to avoid him, and everyone moved around him. Not wanting to be near him. He was so old, ancient. The oldest she had ever felt. But he couldn't have been. Roughly judging him, he looked late twenties, early thirties. Yet he was old, and powerful, even if he didn't know it yet.

_Bad Wolf._

It was her fault. All her fault. Because she thought she could be great. Because she tried. Because she thought she could help.

She saved the Doctor by getting rid of the Daleks. By saving his friends. And Methos. One of the great Immortal survivors was going to be just that, he was going to help Earth.

Or at least, that was what she told herself.

She doesn't know how she managed it, when she looked back on her past, but somehow she managed to stumble over to the lone man, and sit beside him, sitting still and silent. Then she couldn't take it anymore.

"Does it hurt?"

Those words came by themselves, full of sorrow and sadness, guilt and grief. She mourned for him, for what she had done.

"I beg your pardon?"

He looked at her strangely, sizing her up, and freezing when he noticed what she was. What she was made from. What they called Quickening, was in fact, her life force. Herself. Bad Wolf. Yet she wasn't immortal.

"Does it hurt. The lives that pass so quickly. What might have been, what could have been, what mustn't have. The endless." She half smiled and toyed slowly at her jeans. Her face was full of anguish, misery and pain. "I'm Sorry."

Methos gave her a dubious look, trying to judge weather this was a prank in very bad taste by any of his friends or allies. Or neither. Perhaps he thought she was a nutter. Rose mused.

"You did well, you know." She continues, even with his questioning gaze, not wanting to meet his eye. "You once were death. Death on a high horse, but now." She paused.

"Now you're different."

The Immortal's eyes were scanning around him, obviously looking to see if she had any backup, slowly, after a minute pause. He met her eyes.

"Who are you?"

"Rose."

She held out her hand, and slowly moved it back to her lap when he stared at it blankly for a few moments. It was in that moments, that she realised he thought her a threat. She supposed it must be strange, to see someone with that much quickening. He probably thoughts she was an ancient, who very good with swords.

"Adam –" he started to say, but stopped as soon as he noticed the strange expression on her face.

"No. No its not." She laughed, and clasped her hands together. "You have so many names. So many. But only one has a true meaning to you. Methos."

"Who are you?" His voice raised a notch. Drawing the attention of passing people. His voice, so old, so full of command. So full of demand.

"I'm Sorry."

He stared at her, trying to judge what she was, what she meant. She sighed and stared at the park, watching girls and boys drawing chalk squares on the ground, while their friends searched for stones. And at the older children listening to ipods while skating and jumping over schoolbags.

"What for?"

He was attempting another approach.

"For everything. For life. For quickening. For this entire stupid game!" she paused "I'm Sorry."

He froze. Mouth slightly ajar, looking entirely baffled.

"I'm Sorry."

"How-?"

Rose stood, rearranging her blue jacket, and looking utterly despondent.

"I'm Sorry Methos. I am so so sorry."

And she faded.

She ran.

Bad Wolf ran, too afraid to look back.

Because she was the little would-be-god who had been bored one day, who decided to play a game.

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	8. Sanctuary

**Disclaimer: As per previous chapters.**

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_Sanctuary for all..._

The card is normal. And she is surprised by it. What had she expected, black card, bats maybe, at least a sign that this 'private research company' wasn't what it appeared to be. Yet the card is normal, and so was the policeman whose desk she'd swiped it from.

The card is blissfully normal, yet she can't help but feel disappointed. Correct address and everything.

The mansion however, is NOT what she considerers 'normal'- a tag that never seemed to fit anything- What was normal? White picket fence, Square lawn. 2.5 kids

Fixed postal address?

She is none of these things, and has a feeling deep down in her stomach that she will never be 'normal'- and she doesn't care.

The mansion however, is still not normal. It belonged in an old medieval story book with knights and surly peasants. It looks like a church, but holds an air of mystery and safety that escapes most churches.

It feels of _Sanctuary_.

True, Honest-to-God safety. And she loves it.

She enters, without alarms going off (-all it took was a polite 'can I come in' to the EM field, curtesy of her wonderful Sonic screwdriver) and walks up the front door.

And she knocks.

The door opens.

If the Bigfoot is shocked by her, he doesn't show it. Instead he opens the door and steps back, allowing her to enter, and does nothing but nod when she requests to see whomever is in charge.

He takes her to a library, and the Sanctuary is already making her feel at peace.

Bigfoot knocks, pauses, and then enters when she calls out an answer to their unspoken question.

The woman sits with a book and a cup of tea, looking serene and surprised at her sudden appearance. Yet she closes the book and nurses the cup in her hands, changing her body posture to make her feel less threatened.

"Sit."

Rose Tyler sits down in one of the couches and pulls her legs up so she sits cross-legged. She smiles and speaks amazingly calm.

"Rose Tyler."

The woman tilts her head slightly to the side, as she examines her. A young blonde woman wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt proudly displaying the Union jack doesn't exactly look threatening. But this woman has the look on her face like she knows that even a monster the size and shape of a 'cute widdle bunny' could be deadly.

"Dr. Helen Magnus."

She can't help but smile at this brunette woman, who helped the creatures who went bump in the night, protected them, and cared about them. Helen was like a younger, female version of the Doctor.

"This place is fantastic." She suddently explodes, before she realises that perhaps the Great Bad Wolf should have acted more mature, still Dr Magnus smiles.

"Thank you," she says with some traces of amusement before shifting into a more serious mood "May I ask why you have come here?"

"_Sanctuary for all...," _She clears her voice and then looks up at the Doctor. Confusion visible on her face. "Such a noble, honest cause. I came to ask Why? Why do you do it?"

For a few moments Dr Helen Magnus looks slightly angry, before she composes herself.

"They deserve every right we have."

"I never said otherwise," Rose counters, "everything you do here, is Fantastic! Brilliant!" she pauses again, "_Molto bene!_"

Helen frowned at the girl, "I'm not following your question."

"Why do YOU do it." Rose looks at her with such accusation that she doesn't have time to respond before Rose starts talking again.

"I mean. Normal, Usual, Typical, Ignorant, Stupid, Wonderful, Humans. When they believe in something, they _twitter_, sign a petition, wear _funny_ t-shirts, hold up a _banner_. They don't do this!" Rose gestured up and all around. "Why do you do this?"

There was silence for a few moments, before Helen replied.

"Perhaps I'm not human,"

Rose scoffs and waves her hand in a 'yeah, whatever' gesture, then sighs, before responding.

"Join the club."

Rose toys with her laces of her converse, then frowns.

"Besides. You're human, partly. Maybe 97.5- no 97.6 % human. Just a smidgen of vampire blood, eh, happens to the best of us."

"Who are you?"

The blonde girl bites the inside of her cheek and looks incredibly crestfallen.

"Rose Tyler- I thought we'd already established that?"

"Perhaps that wasn't the correct question." Helen looks into her eyes, and seems to see her very soul "What are you?"

Her eyes glow gold and Rose looks away, at the huge library stacked high with books that contained treasure troves of information.

"I am Bad Wolf." She says simply. "I protect my children."

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	9. Supernatural

**Disclaimer: As per previous chapters.**

**A/N: ****Set during Season 2, after 'What is and What Should Never Be' but before 'All Hell Breaks Loose'.**

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Her stereo is cranked up as High as it can go, and she's singing along with the music. The only radio station she can get is this small country/rock station – and this is the third time this song's been on- but she sings loudly and enthusiastically.

The song distracts her for a while, from the nagging tug at the corner of her mind that she's not safe. She's glimpsed the thing after her a few times, out of the corner of her eye. She has no idea what it is, but she knows it's dangerous.

She thinks that's she's in Nebraska, in America, but she can't be sure, borders of states get blurred when you just drive with no aim in mind. All she wants is to drive until she loses the thing after her. That's why she's in the middle of the freakin desert, she doesn't want the _thing _to decide to attack or munch on someone else.

She thinks it's a Kigatilik. Well, correctly _Google_ seems to think that's what it is.

She just thinks this thing is vicious.

It's been about a day and a half since she last ate when she notices a small Roadhouse: she's starving, thirsty and tired when she decided to enter, and it has to be said, in need of a break. The thing trailing her seems to slow down as she parks between two other cars. The Roadhouse must have at least Seven other people inside, if the cars had only one occupant.

She walks into the Roadhouse, and quickly glances around. There are about ten or so people inside, not counting the two women at the bar, all physically fit and all male.

They glance at her, and seem to size her up, when they decide she's not really a threat they turn back to whatever they were doing, but still she can see their suspicion.

She takes at seat at the bar and streached out like a cat, making her bones snap back into place. The man beside her winces.

"Is there anything I can get you?" The brunette woman behind the bar asks her, with concealed suspicion in her voice. She smiles and responds cheerfully "Whiskey please."

The Bartender takes in her disheveled clothes, bloodshot eyes and hastily thrown-up ponytail. The Bartender pauses and looks like she would do anything else then give her a drink.

"Honestly, I'm not a Highschooler skipping out on Fourth period." She scowls, before sighing. She knows she looks young, not more than 19 at a stretch. Yet she is now 21, so shouldn't she be able to drink?

"I can show you I.D" Looking hopefully, before spotting the bottle labeled 'whiskey' and cringing at its state. "Never mind."

She looks up optimistically as a grumble startles her "Got any sandwiches around here?"

The woman returns with a toasted cheese sandwich –which smells absolutely divine and a curious face. This woman seems like a lioness- protective with a deep maternal instinct.

"Are you in some kinda trouble?"

She ruefully shakes her head, "Nothing you can help me with-."

"Ellen."

She didn't mean it in a way that she wanted the bartender's name, still she smiles in return.

"I'm Rose."

"So Rose, how did you get here?" She stares dumbly at Ellen for a moment "I assume that is an English accent, right?"

She frowns and looks confused for a moment, she didn't want this woman in danger, and she wasn't going to actually tell her- she is certain that the cops can get here quickly enough.

"Life sucks." She finally agrees on, handing over a 50 dollar note, it is certainly enough to pay for the sandwich. With a smile she takes a large chunk out of the gooey cheese food and groans in pleasure.

"You sure sound hungry." Ellen comments, as she eyes the blonde in front of her. It makes her feel so insecure at the moment, and she squirms under the woman's gaze.

"Starved." Rose swallows before responding, the woman's eyes burn holes into her when she eats the last of the food. With wide innocent eyes, she looks up at Ellen.

"Can I have a glass of water and another sandwich?" She asks somewhat timidly "And easy up on the salt please."

Ellen nods before calling over the blonde girl which has been flitting around tables, her name is Jo, and with one glance, Ellen silences any protests she might have.

"So, why exactly does life suck?" Ellen smiles as if it will calm her nerves. Ellen does seem nice, she's kind, but has a rough edge that seems to her as if Ellen had seen many things in her life. She was not to be underestimated.

"It just does." Rose shrugs, bewildered by the comment "Life," she starts bitterly "Is like the bloody Twilight Zone."

Ellen stares at her, and looks at the man sitting next to her, their eyes meet and they seem to be sending messages to each other.

"_The Twilight Zone_?" The man beside her says with fake-humor in his voice. "Dean Winchester."

He smiles and acts all charming, yet her focus is drawn to the bandaged hand he tried to hide under his coat, the red stain creeping through the white disturbs her.

"Rose Tyler." She smiles back politely. "Nice to meet you."

The man runs a hand through his short blondish-brown hair and had the expression of someone deciding on something; eventually he relents and asks her the question weighing on his mind.

"So, what did you mean?"

She hesitates, biting down on her lip softly.

"You know all those fairy-tales your parents used to tell you?" she smiles slightly as she remembers her mother's version of Cinderella, "I – Never mind."

The girl comes back with her water and sandwich, and she sips the water carefully, it tastes slightly salty, but she supposes that since she is in the middle of no-where she should be grateful that there is water at all.

They stare expectantly at her, as if waiting for her to blow up, giving them odd looks she pauses and looks confused.

"What?"

"Stories," the stranger next to her prompts after a short pause "Which ones?"

"The ones which your parents tell you that the monsters in your closet are false. The happily ever after ones. They're all lies."

His eyebrow quirks and she's certain he thinks she's a nut job. Human's tend to think that when they see her; and hear her speak. Yet she isn't fully certain he is human. He has an aura of danger and strength around him, which makes her tense up in expectation.

He's seen things.

Done things.

She is certain that he is a protector of sorts.

"Now, why would you think that?" he asks with a smile, showing that he is joking.

She pauses for a moment and looks at him from the corner of her eye.

"Because monsters like me."

Dean nods like he understands, yet she doesn't believe he truly does. He looks toughened. He's seen the ugly side of the world. As a rule she never takes Guesses as fact, but she is convinced enough to state that he is not to be under estimated.

"So, stories?"

She looks at him in confusion.

"Of your monsters." Now she knows that he isn't taking this seriously.

She blinks at him, before scowling.

"Now you're just laughing at me."

He smiles still as he apologizes, and tells her that he really does want to know about her 'monsters'. He looks vaguely interested when she begins.

"Well, I've seen Werewolves, Demons and Zombies." She deadpans, visibly counting on her fingers "I've seen a person turned into nothing but skin and lipstick, strange creatures with spikes and horns. I have a Kigatilik on my trail. And I'm haunted by the flippin' Bad Wolf."

She keeps her face impassive.

"If you dare laugh at me I'll-"

"I believe you."

The words surprise her, so it takes her a while to form a coherent sentence. She doesn't realize until she starts to speak, that she's been smiling brightly at Dean for about a minute.

"Really?"

She glances at him and then nods, "Thank you, you'ld be the first person."

"I'm guessing you're a Hunter then." He says, with a strange expression on his face. "How old are you?"

She narrows her eyes "I'm 21." She hesitates for a moment "What's a Hunter?"

He's quiet for a moment, which surprises her. He doesn't look like a quiet person.

"How'd ya kill 'em?"

"Kill what?" she asks in bewilderment, watching his guarded expression.

"The monsters."

She shakes her head, "I didn't kill them."

He looks appalled at her answer, but she continues hurridly, trying to explain.

"We got-rid of the werewolf. A girl." She inhaled "A wonderful, brilliant girl sacrificed herself to get rid of the things takin' over dead bodies. The skin and lipsticks name was Cassandra. She died, but she _choose_ to die."

"What about the Demons," he asks stiffly "The monsters with horns and spikes.'" he emphases when she doesn't respond. She isn't positive but she can hear the slight note of panic in his voice.

"They're not all bad."

He looks at her with Horror, like she is some kind of horrible thing waiting to kill him.

"They're Demons. They're all evil!"

Dean's voice gets the attention of several other hunters in the vicinity, still he looks pissed at her.

"Some of those 'Evil' Demons saved my life!" she shouts back angrily "We had an incident where we had to vent extreme heat, a wood nymph held down the leaver which vented over 500 degrees into that room. She died saving others. _You can't fix ash_!"

He stares at her for a moment like he isn't sure what to say.

"Sometimes you gotta think before you shoot, Winchester."

Hunter. Hunter of-

"You have no idea what you're talking about; those things out there are dangerous. They're killers."

He stands up, absolutely furious. He towers over her, even when she stands.

"You Nephilim were supposed to _protect_. That was _your_ job. _Your_ duty. But what now? You're just going on and _killing everythin_'!'

Dean blinked, all anger gone.

"_Nephilim_?"

"Yeah. Ever wonder why becoming a Hunter isn't offered at the local Job search office. It's a family-blood thing."

Dean's tone turned icy.

"I don't believe in Angel's."

There is an uncomfortable pause, where Dean just stares at her, like he's trying to figure out her very soul. A small laugh breaks loose from her, which makes Dean's face both livid and confused.

"You believe in Hell, but not Heaven?"

"Never seen anything that proves Heaven exists."

They stare at each other for a moment longer, all hostility is gone, but the intensity remains.

"I'll be your proof."

"What?"

"I'll be your proof." She responds, reaching over and kissing his cheek.

"Stay Safe, Dean Winchester." She says seriously "Protect them. Take care of Sam."

He blinks; a shadow of protectiveness clouds his face.

"What? How do you know Sam-"

"I know many things. Good cannot exist without Evil." She smiles bitterly "you should remember that."

She moved somewhat sluggishly towards the door, only pausing for the briefest of seconds to call out to him somewhat playfully.

"Stop faking it!"

It isn't till later that day he removes the bandages.

And he finally _understands._

He's all healed.

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	10. Being Human

**Disclaimer: As per previous chapters.**

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Bristol. She travels through different universes, learning about each and every one of them, having adventures and trying to _understand. _And she winds up in Bristol. And not even a planet called Bristol. A city called Bristol. It's not even an alien city.

_Totterdown, Bristol, England. Earth._

It's so utterly depressing, that she ends up buying a pack of chocolate smothered with caramel, and sitting on the brick wall leading into a suburban area.

Winsor Terrance seems like a normal place, filled with cars parked awkwardly on the side on the road, children running and chasing after each other and lined with block coloured houses.

It seems so depressing, with the grey sky and ugly houses, and the litter covered streets, and the fact that no matter how many times she tries to tap her ruby slippers together she doesn't go home.

The house on the corner, which she is directly facing, is pink. Some people may have called it orange, but in the end, it is pink. The window stills need a new coat of paint, and the house is far too boxy and flat to be considered pretty. It resembles a shop, more than a home, but she knows there are people inside. The curtains in the window give that away.

She travels to exotic and fun places and she ends up in _Bristol_?

She suspects her mother would be laughing her head off right now.

The chocolates are almost gone, when she notices them: two men, one reminds her of the science geeks that hung around the computer labs at lunch time, with their short hair and geeky glasses; the other is taller, thinner, the stereotypical tall, dark and handsome jock.

A woman flits behind them, with light brown skin and curly brown hair, dressed in what she suspects is the type of thing you wear in the morning after waking.

They walk right in front of her, discussing something loudly, involving forests and full moons. They're so deeply concentrated on the conversation; they seem to not notice her at first.

She frowns at them. Their scents are off. She's picked up, after a lot of travelling, the subtitle differences of human odours. Humans smell of dirt, mint, anti-septic, and different chemicals, as well as the arrange of perfumes and body sprays that they douse themselves in. One of these men smells like darkness, death and of the musty smell of ancient books, as well as a strong hint of blood- which isn't normal even if he worked in a hospital. The other has a wet dog smell going on, which she's smelt before, but still makes her scrunch her nose up as it assaults her senses.

The woman, on the other hand, is different.

At first, there is no smell, none at all. She can smell the street, but there's like a vacuum around her, where nothing seems to exist. Neither smell nor sound.

The woman seems to have made a joke, because tall, dark and handsome smiles and gives a small snort that she has to strain to hear. If she can hear the woman speak, how is it that the other sounds are missing?

No footsteps, no rustling of fabric, no sounds as air rushes into and out of her lungs, no sounds of _living_.

It's downright creepy.

Tall, dark and handsome looks over his shoulder, just before he enters the _pink-not-orange _house, and stares at her. He whispers something to the woman, in a low voice that she instinctively knows is about her. The geeky-wet dog smelling one, looks panicked for a moment, and begins to whine loudly about serial killers and _'leaving the neighbours alone.'_

The woman looks up, and waves.

She waves back.

The woman smiles the brightest smile she's ever seen, joy radiates from her eyes, and she seems overjoyed. The woman seems torn for a moment, before the two men usher her into the house.

Five minutes later, the woman's face is clearly visible in the window, followed by '_T, D and H'_ and the geek one- who seems rather grumpy.

She wonders if he was forced, against his will to watch her too. Or if he's just weak against Peer Pressure.

They are an interesting bunch. Normally, she would never have pegged them as friends; all are just too different to have had any good contact with another, but here they are, living together in a house.

Curious.

She watches them, rock, paper, scissors each other. She can't quite see their gestures, but she supposes that geek-boy lost, because his face turned exceedingly glum, and frightened.

Was she really that scary?

They play again, _'best out of three.' _She supposes, and sighs at their frenzied action, as they play again, and again.

She thinks that perhaps she should go up and introduce herself- because they aren't human, and the woman is just so crazily absent from anything. How can she be nullifying the sound?

It would be a very cool, party trick if she ever learnt how, even if it would creep her out.

Oh, they were fighting. She eyed the window with a marked interest. They fought like siblings, or long time friends, amusing (and confusing) to anyone watching from outside.

Judging from their mouth movements, and drawing from her pitifully small amount of lip reading, they're either saying 'go out and smell for yourself' or discussing what to have for dinner. While eyeing her.

It suddenly strikes her that they're loudly arguing over who's going to talk to her. Their lips become easier to read after time.

Does she really smell that strange?

At least he hadn't said she smelt bad.

Sighing loudly, she walked with a spring in her steps towards the front door. The people disappeared from the window, probably to open it for her.

'_Or to call the cops.' _A voice in her head taunts. Scowling she realized that standing and watching someone's house is really not the best way to make friends.

How had the Doctor managed it?

She knocks on the door loudly, then waits. A hushed, whispering argument starts up on the otherside. One is calling the other a coward, and the other is whining. A woman's voice interrupts their argument, and mentions something about how she can't open the door. Suddenly the soundless wonder can be heard? She frowns as she realizes the implications of being heard when you felt like it.

Eventually the geeky one opens the door, looking at her strangely.

"Hello. Why were you spying on us?"

"George!" The woman elbows him with a strange look. Strangely, the man-George shivers rather than winces- and indigently squealed, "Annie!"

"Do you want me to come back later, or something?" She queries, only half-sarcastic. The look that the two people send her seem to say _'not-a-chance-in-hell.'_, and the other man looked amused.

"Who are you, then?"

"I'm Rose Tyler." She announced, holding out her hand politely, "I feel drawn to this place. I figure there's something I have to do here, then I'll be off."

"You just expect us to invite you in so you can do some '_voodoo_' or something?" George's voice rose, until it was almost a squeak. How anyone could get their voice that high was hard to believe.

"Sorry. I forgot my crystal ball." She sniffed, then scrunched up her nose in distaste, "So, Annie why don't you have a scent?"

"What?" The three chorused, before looking at each other nervously.

"You have no scent. None at all. It's like you don't exist" She observed, "And it's horrible, you're like a huge gaping hole in my senses. I can see you. I can hear you. But I can't smell you. You're an impossible thing Annie."

"Look, if you've come here just to terrorize my roommate and friend, then I think you better leave, eh?" Tall, dark and handsome interrupted.

"I apologize. She's practically grating against my sense- I'm wondering about the lot of you, actually. You for instance, smell of death, decay and blood. I reckon you're a vampire. But you smell different from any vampire I've ever met. So what is it? Do you drink Soda every Monday or do you use fabric softener, coz you're different."

"Okay. I'm going to call the cops because it's obvious you're drugged, drunk or insane!" George garbled, in his 'squeaky' voice.

"George, Honestly. I'm not going to hurt you," She rolled her eyes in exasperation; "I just want to have a little talk about vampires."

"Keep it down! Do you want the entire street to hear?" The man's voice went higher and higher, whining and shrieking at the same time.

"George calm down."

"No Mitchell! I will not calm down!" George was hysterical, "Not when she's about to ruin our lives!"

"Oh for god's sake," She muttered, pushing past them into the house, ignoring the yelp and exclamations that followed. Shrugging she flopped down onto the couch in the living room and smiled at them pleasantly.

"Now, Can I do what I need to do, or are you gonna call the cops?" She flippantly asked, "Because as soon as they get here, I'll play the inconsolable girlfriend, who just got broken up with. Or I'll convince them that you're the ones who broke inside. I'm a poor and defenceless girl after all."

"She's good." Mitchell acknowledged, "So what do you want?"

"Tea, two sugars."

Annie swept into the kitchen, as George spluttered, smiling in amusement at the man, she crossed her legs and inspected the room with interest.

"Why are you here!"

"Oh," She smiled cheekily at George, "I felt something here, a calling, and something needs to be done here. Because I was trying to get to Universe 76a (small 4) J86 ( small 9) 42(capital 3), and something pulled me off balance."

"Something needs to be done? Well you can redecorate if you feel like it." George piped up, strangely calm.

She stared at him and snorted loudly, "You think I'm insane, you're three fries short of a happy meal yourself, buddy."

"You do not come into someone's house and insult them- I'm calling the police!"

"George. Do you honestly think they could throw her out?"

"I don't know! But I'll give it my best shot!" George turned, then stopped as he noticed the tightly smiling woman holding the phone, George stopped, as if he realized she wasn't going to give it up.

"Annie! Do you not understand the seriousness of this? She could be a serial killer waiting to kill us! And we've let her inside! They're going to find our bodies skinned and nailed to the ceiling!"

"Oh, that'd be fine, you could join me." Annie offered, with a smile.

"Annie!"

"You sound like a pre-pubescent teenager." She sighed, "Could you stop shrieking? I keep thinking it's the fire alarm."

"No! You shut up! No! Get out of my apartment!"

Sighing she looked back over at Mitchell with a savage grin, "You know I actually think he thinks I'm going to kill him."

She rolled her eyes and smirked, "Honestly, if he believes that a small little blonde girl can _murder_, _skin_ and _nail_ a _vampire_ _and _a_ werewolf_ to the _ceiling_, then there's really not that much hope for him."

Silence filled the room; George was openly gaping, while Mitchell stared at her curiously. Suddenly Annie started laughing, choking out a garbled 'sorry' after a few seconds.

"Werewolves? Vampires...They're all Mythical...don't exist. I think you've been reading a few too many Harry Potter books."

"Look," she interrupted, sitting up straighter, "Just tell me why I'm getting a massive bloody headache, and I'll be off. Annie."

The woman fidgeted, "I'm a ghost."

She blinked, "Not the Cyberman kind, I hope."

"What-"

"Nothing. So you're a ghost?" She asked curiously, "As in Casper the friendly?"

"Yeah."

"You died." It wasn't a question.

"What did you see?"

"I can't tell you." Annie replied, "It's only something the dead should see, if I told you- You'd have nightmares. You'd never turn off the light again."

"I know." She looked up the woman, "A friend of mine- he can never die. Never. He'll stay immortal forever. An Immortal Human, imagine that."

"That's impossible!"

"No," She shook her head, "It's my fault- but don't delude yourselves. I said he was immortal, not that he was to stay youthful. He ages, but he can never die. And he's died so many times, but he comes back."

"How?" Mitchell spoke, in a voice with a hollow undertone.

"Because the Bad Wolf demands it. And I know what he's seen. The silence. The emptiness. The darkness. And there's something stirring. Something moving in the darkness, and its coming. But you cannot hide."

"What are you?" Mitchell spoke again, his dark eyes narrowing on her dangerously, "You're not a ghost. Not a werewolf. Or a vampire."

"Can you see anything?" She continued, "Or has the darkness completely covered you, because maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't be afraid of the dark, because, just maybe the darkness conceals the good. Maybe, just maybe, the thing stirring out there is someone just like you."

Annie looked thoughtful, before she nodded, and stepped backwards.

"You're her. The Bad Wolf, she usually comes in the forms of doors." Annie observed.

"The Thing about doors is that they can be locked." She smiled, "And then they can be passed, until you get to another, and then that can be passed as well."

"Doors?" Annie asked in confusion, "You mean like a hallway?"

"Or like a hallway, leading to a cellar, or to the stairs. Maybe you'll choose to climb those stairs when you come to it. But which way will you go? Up the hallway to the stairs? Or down, to the cellar?"

"This is sounding like an episode of _Ghost Whisperer_."

"Then I must be going." She rose stiffly, and nodded at them with a smile. Seconds later she was out the door, George and Mitchell on her trail.

"She won't be there."

"How do you know that?" They stared out into the empty street, void of any life.

"Because she left a key behind."

Dangling from Annie's palm was antique silver key, inscribed with two words.

_Bad Wolf._

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	11. Dead Like me

**Disclaimer: As per previous chapters.**

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It was sort of purely by chance that she stumbled upon 'Der Waffle Haus'. Sort-of-purely-by-chance, because the way she figured it. The universe owed her a favour (several actually) and so when her stomach had grumbled, the universe had provided an acceptable source of nourishment, therefore cashing in one of those favours.

She stared at the building for a few seconds, before warily entering. The entire building looked like an accident waiting to happen, from the overly large 'Der Waffle Haus' neon sign, to the happy little interior ( the kind that you see in horror films before a serial killer or a demon from the thirteen-floor of hell appears), she seriously thinks about calling the local council to ask about local building codes.

Still her stomach seemed to override any intellectual protest, and so she stumbled into the homey diner, smiling brightly and hopefully.

Collapsing into a booth she stretched out her tired muscles, and opened the menu, curiously looking through it.

"Can I help you?" A voice brought her out of her mind, blinking, the waitress seemed to take pity on her, "Your order?

"Oh, Can I please have a cup of Tea, and uh, a blueberry muffin."

"Your order will be out soon."

"Thank you."

In a much better mood now that the promise of food had been announced, she glanced around the dinner. There were a few people milling round. A bunch of teenagers over by the front window, in a corner, with massive stacks of waffles that looked strange in contrast to their dark emo-gothic _whatever _clothing. A middle-aged woman sat leaning into the table across from a middle-aged man who looked as equally lovesick. An old man with his granddaughter, the man drinking coffee and the little girl sneaking stealing pieces of bacon from his plate.

Turning around, she noted the group behind her.

It seemed like every single time she saw someone important, someone detrimental to the time stream, that a giant neon sign would be hanging over their heads. Every single time, a little tick in the back of her head would start, and annoy the hell out of her until she needed what needed to be done. Whatever that was.

Anyway, the group were the type of people that started the tick in the back of her head to go haywire, crazy, screaming at her like a five year old on a sugar high, that these people were important.

It kinda reminded her of high school.

"Where's my post-it?" A dry voice wafted in the air, "Don't I get a post-it?"

"If you do not have a post-it in front of you, Peanut, then you do not have a post-it." A male voice replied calmly.

"Why don't I have a post-it?"

"I hear upper management's in shambles." Another voice, spoke up, another female voice, this was calmer.

"Reeaallly now." A squeaky male voice piped up. A definite British tone was in his voice, for one fleeting second, she was reminded of the Doctor.

"Hmm." Was all the second female voice responded with.

"Come on Roxy, you can't tell us that juicy piece of gossip and then just take it away." The squeaky male voice whined.

"Yes, come on Roxy." Another female voice filled the air, this one seemed refined, softer.

"Well, alright." 'Roxy' agreed, "So, I was talking to some of the Reapers from Circulatory Systems Division-"

"Plague Reapers? Now why would you be talking to them_, Roxy_?." The squeaky voice piped up.

"If you would shut up, Mason, then you'd find out."

"Alright."

"So anyway, there was an outbreak of chicken pox in a clinic where I had to reap yesterday, and I got talking to one of them, William-"

"William? Now, who's he?" She could practically hear the smug smile on 'Mason's' face through his words.

"Mason, _shut the fuck up, or I'll shoot you_."

There was a small silence.

"So, he was talking about how he'd been having technical difficulties- receiving Reaps that should have been given to Natural Causes, and getting reaps well out of their area. And he told me he called up some of his buddies from Australia-"

"Ass end of the world." Mason interrupted.

"_Fuck-up, shut the fuck up_ and let the Lady speak." The first male voice responded, calmly.

"Thank you Rube, So- he said how External Forces and Natural Causes having been having massive trouble over there, having to tread on each other's toes to get their reaps done. He mentioned this story, about how two reapers got the same reap."

"Really?" Mason interrupted, honest curiosity in his voice, "That's weird. We haven't been having any trouble."

"What about the old lady and her son last week, that you and Daisy Reaped, you guys were complaining about it all day." Roxy snapped.

"Well, alright-"

"And you wanna know what the really screwed up thing is? Everyone's saying how Head Reapers have been getting their list's of reaps, with Bad Wolf, scribbled right over it. Creepy huh?"

"_What the fuck_ is Bad Wolf?"

"Come on _Georgie_, haven't you ever heard of Little Red Riding Hood?" Mason piped up again.

"I for one loved listening to _George Kouroupos' _simply marvellous composition-"The refined, classy, sophisticated voice was back.

"Oh Daisy, did you screw him too?"

"Georgia, as it turns out, I did not."

"It's the apocalypse. We've just gotta wait for the frogs to start raining now." Mason looked out the window dramatically.

"Here's your muffin and tea," The proclaimed items were carefully placed on her table. Gratefully she glanced up at the dark skinned woman with a smile, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Before the woman even moved, 'Mason's' voice piped up again.

"Can I have some more coffee, Kiffany?"

"How do you plan on purchasing Coffee if you have no any money to purchase with?" Rube spoke up.

"I'll cover him," George announced, "What? I'm not going to listen to him _fucken whine_all day."

"Thanks _Georgie_. This really means a lot to me, it really does!"

"Do you need anything else?" Kiffany the waitress spoke to her, before moving on as she shook her head.

The conversation was getting good. Something inside her brain told her that it probably wasn't a good idea to listen in on other people's conversations, (privacy and all) but the conversation was so _interesting_.

"Excuse me," someone tapped her back. Stiffening, she turned around and found herself face to face with a cheeky pretty-boy, who shared just a little too much facial similarity with the Doctor, "Can I have your napkins?"

Blinking she reached for the silver napkin dispenser, mouth twitching as she heard the second voice.

"Mason! Show some respect" Roxy spoke up.

"You aren't planning on wasting all those napkins are you?" Kiffany spoke, her tone was ambiguous- somewhat calm, and somewhat threatening, "because you know what'll happen if you do."

"Of course not Kiffany!" Mason squeaked, turning around and thumping back into his seat. Kiffany stared at him for a moment before making a noise under her breath and walking away.

Mason watched her until she was gone, before turning back around with a grin.

"Can I have your napkins?" He paused, "_Please?"_

"Mason!" Roxy hissed, "Sit your sorry ass down! You know Kiffany will throw you out again."

"Hmm. Thanks Roxy." He replied, "Napkins?"

Sighing she handed over the silver napkin dispenser, "Knock yourself out."

Mason made a noise of glee, as he grabbed the napkin dispenser, looking like a child in a candy shop.

"Mason. _I will fuck you up_. You will not lie to Kiffany. God knows she puts up with enough of your _bullshit_."

"Uh, _thanks Roxy_," His words dripped with sarcasm, "But- hey, are you _British_?"

Mason suddenly swivelled around and poked her again.

Turning to face him, she nodded.

"Blimey," Mason grinned, "Mason."

"Rose."

"Hello there Rose!" he was chipper, and leering. Suddenly he gasped and huffed, groaning out, "One minute," before turning around.

The smug look on the face of the woman next to him seemed to suggest injury of some kind.

Picking apart her muffin, she pulled out chunks and started eating. The muffin was glorious, wonderful, even better on her stomach which had resorted to self-cannibalism to survive. The muffin had almost half gone before another prod to her back and a chipper "Hello Rosie!" interrupted her.

"Mason, let the Lady finish her muffin. It isn't polite to interrupt people's meals." Rube spoke in his frighteningly calm voice.

"She doesn't mind- you don't mind, do ya Rosie?" His sudden direction in conversation confused her for a moment, when it finally computed in her mind.

"No. This is the funniest conversation I've heard all day!"

"Are you from London? I think she's from London. You sound London-ish."

Rose grinned at his uncanny similarities to the Doctor, "Yeah. I'm from London- you?"

"Me too!" Mason grinned widely, bouncing slightly, "Good old England, eh? So are you travelling?"

"Yep. I'm sort of...wandering. I don't exactly know where I'm going, but, you know, it's a big old world out there."

Mason looked thoughtful, "I never understood why people want to go," he waved his hand vaguely, "You know, out there. It's all guide books, warning on local water safety and plane trips."

Rose nodded, "Yeah, that's why I'm not exactly using tourist lanes. It's worked so far, I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes you are!" Like many of his words, his tone insinuated more than what he actually said.

"_Down boy_," Roxy interrupted, before changing the direction of her gaze, "You really shouldn't encourage him, he's like a puppy. He'll follow you home if you show him the tiniest bit of love and then tear up your _fucking_ furniture."

Somehow she got the impression that Roxy was speaking from experience.

"Come on Roxy, we should encourage Mason to...find friends." George piped up, from beside Mason.

"Will all of you _fuck off_; I'm trying to hold a civilized conversation here!"

"You're forgetting something there mason," Roxy leaned forwards, "That would require you to be civilized."

Mason simply sent a rather rude hand gesture towards Roxy.

"So, Rosie. Where were we?"

"Travel the world or die trying?" She offered hesitantly.

"That. Is possibly the _stupidest bloody piece of bullshit_ I've ever heard. I would have thought people were more concerned about _self preservation_ than gawking at cheap knick-knacks and old buildings." Mason announced, "Dead is dead. Dead as a doornail. Gone! Deceased! Dearly departed. Finis! The end."

"What's the point of living if you don't do anything?" Rose shrugged, "You'd just be bored for your entire life. That doesn't seem right to me. Besides, once I've finished my journey to the centre of the earth, Death is the next big adventure, right?"

Mason grinned, " You know, you have a very strange idea of death."

"Death and I are buddies. We play poker every Saturday Night." Her voice sounded like she was joking. However she wasn't sure if she was.

"Have you ever watched the Munsters?," Mason suddenly stated, "You know: _When your days on earth are over / And you've gone to your reward, / Let us put you 'neath the clover / At a price you can afford_!"

"My mum used to," She answered, tugging at her pink jacket; "I took one look at the black and white picture and ran."

"Ah, me neither. I just like the jingle." He hummed a few bars, before glancing at the man called Rube, "See, I _can_ play nice with others."

"Excuse me Miss," Rube turned his attention to her- not that she suspected it ever hadn't, "I really think you should go back to your muffin and tea, I hear it's exceptionally lovely today. Mason has a lot of work to do, and you shouldn't be associating with anyone who isn't respectable."

"Alright then," Standing, she dropped a bundle of bills on the table, and walked towards their table with a slight shrug.

"The Vashta Nerada might be a little late with the list tomorrow. The whole upper management is over taxed since _The_ _Year That Never Was_ incident, we've got the paperwork for billions of people who are reported as '_Reaped_' but are still alive." She sighed slightly, "Another decade of filling and labelling and pulling off those little folder tabs to get the paper to fit inside the box."

She blinked as she realized the silence that had descended over the table, "Anyway, it's nice to meet you Mason, I'll see you on the otherside, then yeah?"

Walking away from the table, she was only in range long enough to hear Georgia Lass's brilliantly witty reply.

"_Holy Shit_ was that just _Death_?"

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	12. Star Trek: 2009

**Disclaimer: As per previous chapters.**

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"The ripples reached further than I expected," She said to the young man who stood silently, overlooking the memorial that had been erected tall and proud. The man imperceptibly flinched, as if he hadn't noticed her arrival. Perhaps he hadn't.

The elder one beside him, however, seemed to expect her.

"Can I help you?"

The younger's words, polite, and to the point also echoed with an unspoken wish for solitude. His posture stiffened, he carried so much hurt, and anguish, and _blood, and anger and revenge_.

The elder openly stared at her, obviously curious about her old British flag t-shirt, old jagged jeans and the pair of ancient twenty first century 3D glasses perched on her nose. The red and blue cellophane starting to crinkle from use.

"The ripples," She started again, looking out towards the small gathering of Vulcan Survivors. Their pain was easily seen, _Raw_. But they acted Vulcan, with all their pain hidden below the surface of a mask of stoicism, "They spread out across the pool, changing the things that shouldn't have been changed. I didn't stop them; I thought they'd stop as soon as they hit the wall."

"I do not understand."

She eyed him out of the corner of her eye.

"The ripples changed everything. The _Jellyfish_ and the _Narada_." The man's posture changed, as he recognized her words, "It should have torn a hole in Time and Space and Dimension and everything. But they didn't. Because they found a crack."

"What do you know of the Jellyfish and the Narada?" He demanded.

"The cracks," she continued, "Two points in Time and Space that should never have touched."

"An astute observation," The other's voice interrupted, another man, the same. But older.

"They ranged from tiny, to as big as the sky." She spoke, her words concealing what she thought "Two points in time that were _never_ meant to touch."

Glancing between the two men, the same and yet so different, she smiled.

"Am I correct in the assumption that you are part of the Collective known as the Q?"

"I'm not a Q, They fear me, you see" She nodded, "They're nothing but children, and I am their mother."

"Indeed. Fascinating." The older Spock spoke, his weary face betraying more emotion then the younger.

"Some cracks acted as wormholes, allowing passage to the otherside, but some erased things. People. Events." She eyed the younger Spock for a moment, "Consequences must remain the same."

"He has new eyes." She looked at the elder Spock, "Blue instead of Hazel."

"I had noticed, may I ask why?"

"How do you know, I know?" She teased him, "I had to change something, anything. I don't want a repeat, playing the same level over and over, learning all the cheats and codes, Spock."

"You claim to be in control of events." The younger Spock spoke, more robotically.

"Maybe. Things will be different now. The Nexus is coming earlier, sooner than usual." She noted, "The Nexus, like a transporter. You can beam down, but your pattern is stored."

"Jim?" The elder Vulcan voiced, "He is alive."

"He's in transport." She wryly grinned, "But for everything that comes, something must be given in return."

A silence fell between them, the woman looked towards the sky, her eyes widening, "The silence is falling."

The two Vulcan men seemed to finally become aware of her words, as they noticed the absence of all sound. Wind. Traffic. Speech. Anything at all.

"Some cracks connected to other worlds, and some, to silence and the end of all things." She whispered.

"Please elaborate on your words," The younger demanded.

"I cannot." The weary blonde woman replied regretfully, "The cracks, I looked through them and I saw fire, and death, and destruction. They must be healed, fixed up with tape. Sew them closed."

"Do you have the capabilities to seal these _'cracks'_?" The younger input, eyes narrowed. His emotion so raw, yet he hid it away, because he must. Curiously, the blonde looked at him. Her eyes saying nothing but '_I'm so sorry_.'

"No." She simply stated, "And they mustn't be. The cracks must be closed up, but not completely. Even broken things have their place in the multiverse."

The silence fell around them. Pure silence. The wind missing, the birds absent, the hum of the world of technology around them missing.

"Sometimes the cracks are necessary, you've fell through one more than once. I can see the void stuff around you," She tapped her glasses with a grin, "It swirls around you. This isn't your universe. But it has the same potential for greatness. It won't turn out like the others."

"You are referring to the Mirror Universe-"

"Among others."She admitted, smiling sadly, "Everyone is going to want to speak to you_S'chn T'gai Spock._" Her lilting voice pronouncing the Vulcan words effortlessly.

"Define '_everyone_'." His pronunciation of the last words makes her grin. It's awkward, too casual to be a word he'd favour.

"Starfleet. The Vulcan Council. They'll want you to tell them of things to come. And if you do, you'll save billions of lives, trillions of lives. But for every single person you save, three more will die in their place."

The silence fell again, while she studied the memorial, and the sky, and the people who still hung around the stone inscribed with the dead.

"They'll ask you to tell them things. Things from your universe that should happen. But they won't, not here. Things are going to happen out of turn, happen differently, or not at all." Smiling softly she glanced sadly at the elder, "You remind me of somewhere, from a long time ago. A doctor. He tried to save everyone, but you can't save everyone. The universe thrives on death. If you try to save everyone, if you try to stop death, you only stop growth. Life from Death, Spock."

"How do you explain the destruction of Vulcan, and the death of six billion of its inhabitants as growth?" The younger spoke, clearly agitated and upset. Yet his face remained perfectly still, only his voice gave any indication to the emotions bubbling inside of him.

"How do you not? Vulcan society was very focused on Tradition, Ritual, now, the survivors must improvise, and adapt. As a people, they must grow."

She nodded towards the memorial, "_How we deal with death is at least as important as how we deal with life_."

"Wise words." The elder remarks.

"Spoken by a wise man." She adds raising her hand to her forehead, she saluted the memorial stiffly.

With one last sad glance – one so torn and tired that she'd easily be mistaken for a Vulcan, even with her long blonde hair and pink cheeks.

"Thrusters on Full, Spock." She bides one last time, before turning and disappearing into the world behind her.

And the world does continue.

Even if it isn't quite the same.

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	13. Grimm

**Disclaimer: ****As per previous chapters.****  
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"That went surprisingly well." He announced, limping back to the comfort of his own home. The injury to his leg wasn't enough to warrant a visit to the hospital, or anything else than a quick self-administered first aid and some good old fashioned rest. The wound to his ego was worse; any Blutbad worth his fur would have loathed to admit that they'd been injured by nothing more than misplaced elbow and an over eagerness to help around the shop.

Rosalee seemed to have that effect on him.

"I guess I can't complain," The Grimm responded, "Considering nothing's tried to eat me this week."

"Obviously a plus, considering almost getting eaten has become a daily ritual for you," He grins back, before stopping and frowning, "Speaking of being eaten..."

The words had the instant effect of having the Detective draw his gun. The smell grew more potent the closer he drew to his house, and his face flushed in anger at the intrusion of an unknown person.

And if the smell was to be trusted, an unknown wolf.

He stands in front of his own door, with the familiar wolf emblem, hands in the pockets of his cardigan when he smells it.

_Her._

She's been here many times before, just skirting the edge of his territory, enough to let him catch wisps of her scent to know that she was taunting him. Or letting him know she was coming.

It was better for her to let him know she was coming, he grudgingly admitted, but a phone call would have been easier.

"Monroe, are you okay?"

At first he thinks no one is home, and the scent- though strong, is old- but then he hears the latch of the lock, and suddenly the smell intensifies.

"She's here." He mutters darkly, with just enough apprehension to colour his words and let the Grimm know that this wasn't a welcome intrusion. To his side, he hears the man reach for his gun like a good little cop, and swiftly bursts through the door soundlessly. The utter intrusion of his territory is unforgivable, and if it wasn't a _Grimm_ of all things by his side, there would have been some serious blood spillage.

There was only room for _one_ wolf in his territory.

"Come in," a female voice calls out, as they both slink into the lounge room. "I've got peppermint tea on the stove. You guys want some?"

Then suddenly the scent shifts, he isn't angry any more, and his mouth is set in a frown and his eyes are curious, "Can I _help _you?"

"We need to talk." She smiles widely, watching his confused reaction to her British accent. She had no doubt that he could smell the wolf on her. The scent of power and red and teeth, the smell of the smell of she who had lured many innocent riding hoods in her days.

"You're _HER_," Monroe voices as his eyes widen in surprise, with just a little touch of fear, "You know my mother used to tell me stories of you as a child. I was never sure if she wanted to scare the crap out of me, or provide me with career options."

"Don't we all make good stories?" The blonde retorts, with a hint of a smile, "Give it a couple of years and you two will be told to naughty little Blutbads, to scare them into obedience."

"You know her?" The Detective by his side questions, even though he already knows. Still, he hadn't dropped his gun, which seems to perplex her a little.

"I know _OF_ her," Monroe corrects grouchily, "The original Wolf, Bad Wolf herself. The first one to chase down a Red Riding Hood. Without the whole grandma-eating, sub-plot of course."

"I prefer Rose," She corrects lazily; "They always translate Rose as Red, when it was always a name."

"Whose name?"

"My name," She offers to the Grimm, as if a secret, "Do you know the real story, or have your ancestors finally managed to cram evil wolves in every single unfortunate murder?"

"_Unfortunate_?" The Detective offers in exasperation, shelving his gun, as soon as he caught sight of Monroe's steady gaze. Still he managed to get in the last sarcastically exasperated word, "You look surprisingly well for someone who supposedly was attacked by an axe-wielding huntsman."

"You need to start hitting the Grimm books hard," Monroe scoffed, "How the story actually goes- you may want to take some notes here class, because there'll be a pop quiz- Is that a well bred young lady goes trampling through the forest, and she comes across a wolf who she asks for directions. The wolf admittedly gives false instructions when she asks the way to her grandmothers. But who can blame him? Tourists! She ends up being eaten, BUT! That's it. No woodsman – no grandmother – just a fat wolf and a dead Red Riding Hood."

"Nice story." The Detective forces a fake smile onto his face.

"Dude, it's not a story," Monroe offered in her defence, "She's a legend, she was _there_; it's like a back in the good old days kinda story. Don't let her get started on the photo albums, though."

"_Pup_." She retorts, with a smile, "I did come here for a reason, however."

"Oh?" Monroe questions, and bristles in such a way that he looks quite pleased that she'd ask something from him. She indulgently smiled, and motioned towards the stove, where the aforementioned peppermint Tea had apparently finished brewing.

He grumbled, although moved towards the kitchen to serve the Tea she had started. Although he had moved, he certainly wasn't out of the conversation, and he certainly didn't trust her enough to leave them alone without an extra pair of ears.

"So," The Grimm began, moving closer and sitting on the arm of his friend's couch, "The Big Bad Wolf huh?"

"Just Bad Wolf," She muttered back, "or, you know, Rose."

"Monroe said you hunted the actual Red riding Hood?" The Dark Haired Detective responded, "That would make you- how old exactly? You look good for a woman of a few hundred years."

"Cheers, plenty of exercise and a good diet." She winked back with a grin, "But you've got the story wrong, I hunted for sure, but I didn't kill anyone."

"You're not doing a very good job of convincing me of your innocence."

"I didn't literally eat her," Rose replied, allowing just enough of her face to slip through, to show the Grimm her dangerous glowing eyes, "I am Bad Wolf. I created messages to send myself- impressions of who I am were left in all of those who came too close, in all of those who could help me get myself to where I must be. How can I be guilty when I was both the hunter, and the hunted?"

"Tea's ready." Monroe called, his face, while pleasant, showed that he hadn't missed a single scrap of conversation. Superior hearing and all.

"I think that's why Blutbad's exist," Bad Wolf continued thoughtfully, "They're echoes. Like me, they hunt out the Rose- _Red_- that I desperately needed to lead back to me. Like me, they get so enraged when they lost that which they wanted."

"Excuse me?"

"I sent messages through time and space, to awaken the Wolf inside in," Rose explained, "I was once human, and my Wolf had to twist the strands of time to ensure that my human became Wolf. But, I missed sometimes, and those messages awoke things which shouldn't have."

"Wait, are you saying that Blutbad's exist because your aim sucked?"

Rose sent him a withering glance.

"No," She snapped, "Wolves were known as teachers. I gave them a message to spread, to teach- but they were exposed to the very heart of my essence. They grew fearful and enraged by my very name- Rose- when they saw what I have done when they saw of the slaughter and blood left behind by my greatest love. They grew to know that I was a danger, and wolves always protect their packs."

"So why are you here?" Monroe awkwardly responded, setting down the cooling tea onto the table, and eying her thoughtfully, "I mean, not that I don't appreciate the sheer history in my living room, but..."

"Wolves were teachers," She repeated with a smile, "Still are- and you're one of the best teachers of them all. I came here to ask you to be a teacher. To teach the first Wesen children to look beyond the damage done in the old country, from the old rules. To teach the Wesen community that it stops here, and that in the 21st century, everything changes. I need you to teach people that they can be so much better than they ever hoped, and I need you to teach this baby Grimm that he could be so much. I need you to teach him to be the best possible person that he can be."

Monroe was silent, and looked back beyond dark, but listening eyes, "And what makes you think that I'm any kind of teacher?"

"He's not dead."

Monroe let out a snort of amusement, "Still, it's an awfully big job, and my blutbad street cred is going to be seriously damaged by this._ Have_ _you accepted Monroe as your personal lord and saviour_?"

"I'll owe you one." Her lips quirked.

"You're like," Monroe waved his hands frantically as he spoke, "Our Elvis, why can't you do this? I am but a humble clockmaker in Portland. You're one tweet away from a personal Blutbad army. I'm not a legend."

"But one day you will be," The way she said it, with such finality and assurance, sent chills down his spine, "One day memorial clock towers will be built in your honour, and one day Wesen will lift their heads in pride and solidarity, and you'll be the person who built them strong. All fairy tales have to come from somewhere, and this time, a wolf will be writing them."

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	14. Red Dwarf

**Disclaimer: ****I hold no rights to any of the worlds depicted within, only the content of my own dreams.**

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"Oi, who are you?" The floating head questioned, "How'd you get on board? I'm not complaining really, it's a bit dull here lately, with the crew having kicked the bucket and all."

Rose bristled at his words, but curiously responded, "They're all dead?"

"More or less," The head appeared to shrug, but she couldn't be certain, considering he WAS just a disembodied head and all, "I've been kickin out here on my own, haven't I? S'not all bad, I feel like a bachelor again."

"A Bachelor?"

"Course, I never really stopped bein' one," The head considered, "Maybe this is just like a bit of a holiday then? Course I would have opted for something more populated and all. Still, could have been worse- I could've ended up in Leeds."

Rose eyed the balding head suspiciously; it was painfully obviously he had more than a few screws loose, but he was certainly cheerful and harmless enough. It was rare she met someone who could actually be crazy, without the apparently murderous side effects.

"Right; so what happened to the crew anyway?" She questioned hesitantly, flicking her blonde hair behind her shoulder and tugging her pink jacket closer to her body. She half expected the head to answer something along the lines of 'oh, I acidentally shot them all out the airlock'.

"Radiation leak," The head seemed to shrug again, "The drive plate wasn't repaired properly; I've been on my own for about 3 million years or so. To tell you the true, I think it's making me a bit daft."

"Oh," Rose's eye widened, "3 million YEARS? You've been on your own 3 MILLION YEARS? Don't you feel _lonely_?"

"Poppycock," The head scoffed, "I've been reading a book in the main library- I've almost finished reading _Pride and__Prejudice_."

"You've been reading a book for 3 million years? One book?"

"Well, it doesn't have pictures, does it?" The head retorted, "Besides, I'm getting through it."

"Oh; where are you up to?"

"Chapter 2."

"Huh," Rose responded, for lack of a better word to say, "So, I'm Rose by the way."

"Holly; I'm the ships computer of the Mining Ship Red Dwarf," The head- Holly- responded, "Been a while since I saw your sort round here. But now you're here- up for a game of charades using only your nose?"

"I think I'll pass," Rose smiled back, "Why're you on your own? I mean, hasn't anyone come looking for you or anything?"

"Nah; I set a course far from Earth, didn't I?" Holly responded cheerfully, "The radiation was a tad strong for living tissue and all; you know humans- you accidentally irradiate a planet and suddenly they get their knickers in a twist."

"Radiation? Isn't it all gone now? It's been 3 MILLION YEARS," Rose paused, "I suppose all of the human race is gone now, anyway."

"I would guess so. Technically," Holly paued, "The Radiation is just reaching safe levels now. I can probably let Dave out sooner or later. Blimey that'll be fun."

"Dave?"

"He's stashed away in Stasis," Holly blinked out, and then returned just as quickly as he left, "Yeah, he's still there. He got put in stasis before the radiation leak, didn't he? Everyone died and I kept him in there so he didn't get himself snuffed."

"Oh," Rose paused, "He's going to get lonely if you let him out. People don't do well on their own."

Holly considered that, "Strike a light, I think you're onto something. I suppose I can ressurrect a crew member as a hologram; still there were a few people around, which one do I pick?"

"Who did he talk to the most?" Rose questioned, "Usually whoever you talk to is the person that you need the most."

"Uh, Arnold Rimmer; Technician second class," Holly responded, then grimaced, "He's a real twat that one. A total git. If anything he'll smeg it all up."

"Friendships are strange like that," Rose smiled, "But him a little credit, okay? Give him a chance. Don't underestimate us humans."

"I hope you're right," Holly responded, after a period of deep thought, "Either way, it's a laugh, innit?"

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	15. Young Dracula

**Disclaimer: ****I hold no rights to any of the worlds depicted within, only the content of my own dreams.**

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"It should have been your line, y'know," The blonde woman is draped across the throne that his father sits, much to the utter fury of the Count, but she takes no notice, "For someone who wants peace, you sure seem to don the robes of a Dictator pretty often."

"Off you vile creature!" His Father snaps before Vlad can raise his hand and send his regent from the room with a bitter glare of pure hatred. No one willingly walked into the nest of a Vampire, sat on their throne and raised a goblet filled with red creaming soda, unless they were trying to make a very stupid but poignant point. And the power they must hold to dare make such a point...

"_Excuse me_, who are you?" The bite behind his words is enough to make the woman grin, and he suddenly feels as if he has passed a test, "Why are you here?"

"It should have been your line," The blonde responded coolly, "You were willing to kill in the name of peace. It should have been you to call _Stop,_ and ask what had happened to everyone, because _you wanted peace_. And yet it came down to Jonno. A slayer saving the life of a vampire. _It should have been you_."

"You're a _Slayer_." The Count hissed to the blonde woman, who snorted in response.

"No," The woman responded, with a hard look in her too-young eyes, "But right now, you need to take a good long look at yourself, Vlad. You may be the chosen one, but if you don't wake up and smell the stakes and garlic _right now_, it'll be far too late."

"I know what I'm doing-"

"Did you say that when you staked Bertrand?" She retorted, "Possibly your biggest ally; he spent hundreds of years training to be the best that he could possibly be for when you came. He was one of the few people you could trust- I bet you knew exactly what you were doing then."

"That was a misunderstanding!"

"You seem to have quite a lot of those."

The dark-haired boy, the Vampiric Chosen one, stared her down, but didn't receive so much as a waver in response. The blonde woman; dressed in torn stockings and a denim skirt with the union jack across her shirt, was hardly the most imposing figure, but there was an air around her that would make anyone pause.

"I'm not here to judge you," The blonde responded, "But I'm here to give you a firm kick up the backside. If you want peace, if you want Humans and Vampires and Slayers to live together in harmony, then you have to _sit down and listen_. You have to learn. You have to start treating people with more respect, because you're starting to become a Dictator, Vlad."

Vlad's eyes told more about his emotions than any of his words could, "Someone has to control this situation, there's utter chaos right now-"

"You can't be a champion for peace if you play your life like a game of chess- treating everyone as a pawn. There is no such thing as a sacrifice for the greater good. There is no good in ordering people to their deaths, and there isn't any good in murder- no matter how much of a misunderstanding it was."

"And if I choose not to listen to you?" Vlad responded with a mocking grin, "Will it start raining toads? I think I know how to handle this situation- I am the chosen one."

"More like the chosen git if you ask me," The woman quipped back, "The chosen prat, the chosen goit."

"And if I don't listen?" The boy insisted.

"_Bertrand du Fortunesa_."

The silence was deafening, but eventually the boy accepted her words with a nod.

"You could be so great Vlad," The woman moved from the throne, and walked towards him with something feral in her step, "But your story has gone from such a beautiful beginning, into an Elizabethan tragedy. What happened to that kind hearted boy who just wanted to remain kind and good? How did he go from that to this twisted emotional-wreck of a vampire?"

"Things change," Vlad responded curtly, "I couldn't remain a child forever. At some point you have to let go and figure out how to walk on your own two feet."

"Once you believed in peace, but now I wonder if all you do is repeat the words, because you've lost the passion. Do you believe in your own words, or is it just your ego insisting that you not be the first person to back down?" The woman grinned wryly, "Whatever you decide, make up your mind quickly, Chosen one, before more _Bertrand du Fortunesa_'s are led into their deaths."

"Why did you come here today?"

"Because you were born into blood and anger and revenge, yet you could be so much more," The woman's hands fidgeted, and bunch up in her skirt from unspoken frustration, "And because, in the end, Vlad; _it should have been your line_."

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